I Am Achilles
by Egyptian-Monk
Summary: Achilles. Perhaps the greatest war hero ever to walk the Earth. What if Thetis had been wrong about her son? What if Paris had made a terrible mistake?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction for Troy. It's going to be a bit difficult for me because I'm a big history buff and the movie wasn't entirely accurate. Go figure. Anyway...putting all that aside this is straying from the movie a bit, and a few things have changed. I hope you enjoy it. In myth Briseis was a sex slave of Achilles and after the death of Achilles her story ends. Nobody really knows what happened to her though it was assumed she was passed on to another Greek warrior. I will write another fan fiction later that relates to that story, depending on the success of this one.**

**Summary: (This is the beauty of fan fiction...you have the power to change the stories...lol) I know Paris goes on to live shortly after the fall of Troy however he does eventually get killed during the Trojan war. (Sadly he was young and inexperienced) This story is what could have happened instead of Achilles death. I couldn't decide if I wanted to add another character or keep Briseis in the story line. I hope my final decision is good enough for you.**

**Chapter One: Unfold**

_I am Achilles. I serve no man but my honor. __I have killed many of men with my sword.  
I have seen death. I am death.  
I am the lion among Greeks. Wild and untamed.  
I am Achilles._

The wind was as calm as an infant's sleep. There was a subdued submission in the air as the few remaining Greeks left on the beaches of Troy awaited their commands. From afar it would seem as if the Greeks had simply given up and returned to the sea though their king was too selfish to simply turn back. Agamemnon was a greedy selfless man who would rather see his army wiped out than to swallow his pride.

Tucked away in a darkened cove just beyond the limits of Troy an army of darkness awaited their que. In the early morning hours, Troy would fall. A large silhouette haunted the shoreline, one man's vision born to reality. Bellowing in it's glory, a tired figure gleaming upon it, his arms crossed and his mind lost in thought. His name was Odysseus. A proud and clever war leader, Odysseus stood upon his creation and played out the coming events in his head.

"Should you not be resting, brother?" Spoke a puissant voice from beside him. Odysseus had not heard his patron near. The voice that belonged to none other than Achilles. A skillful warrior, unscathed by war and in every sense immortal.

Odysseus smiled and rubbed a hand upon his chin in a sigh. "The ships have been moved, thousands of men await the command to take Troy."

Achilles looked up at the wooden horse his friend had dreamt up. "It will work. Troy will fall and our names will forever be remembered."

The two men became silenced as the waves continued to caress the shoreline in a soothing lullaby. While Odysseus longed to be back with his beautiful wife Penelope, he knew that battle was where his heart truly lied. He, like Achilles beside him, was gifted by the Gods. Where Achilles was blessed with immortality and strategy, Odysseus was blessed with wits. He had worked hard to achieve his title where as Achilles it seemed to come natural.

"My journey is near it's end my friend. When this war is over and the battle is won, I shall return to my wife in Ithaca. No more war. No more blood. My journey ends here." Odysseus sighed in satisfaction knowing he would be returning to the bosom of his wife.

"It may be a long war, Odysseus. You may return to see your wife married to another." Though his tone was playful he did have a point.

"What of you, great Achilles? Where does your journey lead you? "

Achilles lowered his eyes as he remembered his mother's words before he left for Troy. Proudly lifting his head his blue eyes seemed relieved. "Within the morning the streets of Troy will be reduced to ashes. My fate lies within those ashes, my friend."

Odysseus had never heard Achilles speak with such negativity. It was as if he knew his death was inevitable. "You are still young, Achilles." He preached with a bit of anger. "Have you no desire to father your son, Neoptolemus?"

Achilles leaned down and ran a hand through the cool sand. He found it fascinating that deep down within the sand there was a comforting warmth though on the outside it was chilled from the night air. Achilles had been young when he fathered Neoptolemus. Too young. He had not yet reached the height of his manhood when he fell in love with the princess of Skyros. Her name had been Deidamia, a beautiful young woman with a desire of lust. It was shortly after Neoptolemus was born that Achilles isolated himself, drifting from town to town before before returning to his mother. "This is how it must be." Achilles spoke softly.

"But your blood runs thru his veins Achilles. One day he will be as good as warrior as you . Do you not wish to teach him to fight? To be a glorious warrior?"

"I do not wish this path for him." Uttered Achilles barely above a whisper. Before another word could be spoken there came the sound of a horse nearing the beach. Both men casually looked over their shoulders in an unwelcoming gaze. Since the capturing of the shore, there was hardly a moment one could spend alone. "I wish him the glory of a warrior...but not mine."

Odysseus turned to greet the nearing Myrmidon. "Your hatred for man is unfathomable." His voice in mockery.

Achilles smirked. "As is your dedication for them."

"My lord." A rather large sized Myrmidon stopped just before the two men. The horse panted with exhaustion from the wight of it's rider. The Myrmidon was solid muscle and rather frightening in appeal. A far cry from the beauty of the man in which he served. He bowed his head in honor of Achilles. "Word has reached Troy that we have fled the shoreline. Everything is falling in to place my lord."

Achilles nodded. "Thank you Cibisus, you have done well."

"Thank you, my lord." The man nodded and rode off to the faint flickering of fire down the beach. The last fire, the last camp that would be set.

Achilles acknowledged the wooden horse one more time before stepping away from his friend. "Odysseus." He called, his back still turned to his friend. "I will not say goodbye for we shall meet again. Across the river of Styx I shall be waiting for you."

Odysseus sighed as the greatest warrior the world had ever seen disappeared in to the darkness of night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I do not own any of the characters. Part of this chapter is dialogue from the film.**

**Chapter 2 The Gift of the Gods**

It felt as if it was a death box as the wooden horse became warmer with each excruciating moment. Sweat dripped from one man and fell to another yet not a word or groan was uttered. Splinters pierced skin and armor were pressed firmly to the back of another. Achilles peeked through the holes near the eyes of the horse. He could see from a distance Priam's parade nearing the shore. Hundreds stood, careful not to underestimate the enemy. Achilles looked down upon the Greek warriors and nodded his head. Now was the moment of truth. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances with their neighbors. There was a good chance that Priam would indeed fall in to their trap. It was well known that Troy was a religious city and took pride in pleasing the Gods. There was also an equal chance that he would burn it for spite. Everyone within the horse had put their trust in to Odysseus whom was once deemed a mad man. Nevertheless, Odysseus was prized for him precise strategies in war and brilliant tactics. He was both feared and admired. Achilles glanced at Odysseus who was squeezed beside him. The two men nodded at one another as Priam, Paris and members of the council stood before the wooden treasure.

Priam stepped forward as he looked over the desecrated beach. Spread before him were diseased bodies and battered ships. "Here." He spoke as he continued forward.

Paris cautiously followed his father, uneasy. Something didn't seem right though he held his tongue.

"Plague." The old king announced as he the party examined the bodies.

"Don't get to close, my king!" Warned Glaucus as the King stood upon a filthy dead body.

"This is the will of the Gods!" Preached Archeptolemus. "They desecrated the temple of Apollo and Apollo desecrated their flesh."

Glaucus looked at the King. "They thought that they could come here and sack our city in a day. Now look at them, fleeing across the Aegean."

"What is this? Asked the King not the least bit amused as he looked up to the wooden statue.

"An offering to Poseiden." Spoke Archeptolemus. "The Greeks are praying for a safe return home. This is a gift. We should take it to the temple of Poseiden."

Paris couldn't take much more. He felt the guilt and rage boil within him. "I think we should burn it."

Achilles glanced back at the men whose eyes were wide with fear. Achilles frowned and waved a hand to steady them. He suspected Paris would be hesitant of the offering. For a moment Achilles imagined jumping from the horse, slicing the King's throat and decapitating the Prince. How easy it would have been to take them, even Priam's men off in the distance would fall to the few dozen men within the horse. The idea passed as quickly as it had appeared.

A rather pompous Velior looked at the prince. "Burn it? My prince it's a gifts to the Gods!"

Paris looked down in frustration. "Father." He spoke sternly. "Burn it!" He pleaded.

The old king looked at his son. "My son. After all we have been through...do you think it is wise we risk upsetting the Gods?"

The young prince looked away in frustration. "If I were Hector you would not hesitate." Ever since Paris was a child he had lived in his brother's footsteps. No matter how he tried he could never live up to the name his brother had built. Hector had been a glorious war captain where as the only battle Paris ever fought ended with him begging for his brother's assistance.

Velior and Archeptolemus stepped back as King Priam stood before his son. "Paris." He spoke as he placed his frail hands upon his son's shoulders. "You are still far to young to understand. One day you shall make me proud. You shall make Hector proud. Still there is much to be learned. You simply cannot act out on your hatred."

Paris nodded his head in surrender. "I'm sorry father."

Priam kissed his son's forehead. "I know my son."

"My lord?" Archeptolemus stepped forward.

"Gather the men." Priam gazed up at the horse. "We shall take it to Troy."

Odysseus smiled though he knew victory had yet to settle in their hands. He could feel it within the men, the anticipation of freeing themselves from their wooden bounds. The pleasure they would get for destroying a great city such as Troy. It was exciting though part of him pitied the souls of Troy. Souls who would feast tonight in their homes but would be feasted upon by the birds tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: More to come. I just wanted to add this little bit so you know I haven't forgotten!**

The Trojans celebrated the parting of the Greeks and paraded around the massive wooden offering to the Gods. With festivities carrying well in to the night, Achilles and the several dozen men within the wooden horse were becoming more and more ancy.  
Achilles sat patiently like a lion stalking his pray. His eyes scoured the crowd hoping to catch a glimpse of his royal lover. He felt little to nothing for those whom would lose their lives that night. It was a glory, a fight he would be remembered by. Generations upon generations would remember his name. Achilles. He would never be forgotten.  
A smile crossed his lips as he imagined the thought of men shuttering to his name. As children looked up to their elders begging to know more about the legendary "Achilles."  
Little by little the masquerading Trojans disappeared in to their homes as the night grew stronger until there were no more than a handful left. With what very little light seeped in to the wooden horse, it had been far to dark for a physical signal. Achilles squatted in a pouncing position and tapped his knife against the side of the horse. A signal to the anxious Greeks that the wait had come to an end. The first secret door became unlatched and a Greek slid out from underneath the horse followed by another.  
Achilles reached for the latch above his head where he and Odysseus would escape. His heart raged within his chest and he began to sweat with anticipation.  
He felt a hand against his. "May the Gods have pity on your soul." Spoke Odysseus.

Achilles, not normally a religious man bowed his head in respect to his friend as a parting farewell. He punched the latch open, swung himself in to the breeze of the night and disappeared over top the horse. His mind became blank and his motive clear though no man knew of his true intentions. Greeks fell at his feet as they fled in fear, scattering about in a confused daze. Jumping over bloodied and frightened men he pushed his way through the now burning city.


End file.
